Oath

by K. J. Jackson

  A slight grunt escaped her as Tieran yanked the ribbons tight. She inhaled, inflating her chest to make sure she had room to breathe.

  “No.” His fingers jerked as he tied off the ribbon. “Absolutely not, Liv. I will not allow it.”

  “What?” She whipped around, her temper flaring, burning away any hopes that had started to brew. “You thought you would bed me and then I would scurry under your control—that you would be able to dictate my every move?”

  He stared at her, his jaw twitching, fury creasing his brow as his mouth pulled tight.

  He was holding back. Holding back anger he had no right to.

  “What is it you truly want of me, Tieran? I have already bared my heart to you because I know no other way to be with you. Only honest. And I could not be near you—with you—without you knowing that.”

  She snatched her wool skirt from the pile on the bench, pulling it on and securing it in place. “But I never asked you if you love me, because I also, honestly, don’t want to know the answer.”

  Picking up her wool jacket, she paused, her look meeting the brewing storm in his eyes. “But we need to end any association we have, and you need to leave me alone if you intend to try and control me. I have a life, Tieran. A life I was quite happy to lead on my own terms before you appeared back in my life.”

  “Someone needs to control you, Liv.”

  “Tell me you did not just mean to speak those words.”

  “No. I meant them exactly as they sounded.” His hand ran through his hair. “Someone needs to control you, Liv—stop you from the path of destruction you are on. Do you truly want a life where your sole purpose is to mete out revenge according to some bizarre list you have? A life where no solace exists for you in the darkest hours of the night?”

  “That is what you think my life consists of?”

  “Tell me otherwise.”

  Her eyebrows drew together and she turned from him, buttoning her jacket and picking up her cloak, gloves and bonnet on her way to the stairs. “Do not judge what you know nothing of, Tieran.”

  She ran up the stairs, going to her horse.

  Damn him.

  Damn him for always judging her.

  Silent minutes later, they were on their way on the trail, Liv nudging her mare for speed every few steps.

  She needed to be out of Tieran’s presence. Out of the shadow of his animosity, of his judgment, of his need to control her.

  It wasn’t until Mortell Abbey was in sight, and the horses were trudging through the deep snow, that she could admit to herself the real reason she wanted to escape him.

  His words had stung. Words that were far too close to the truth.

  Her life did consist of meting out punishment. Punishment that was due.

  She wasn’t about to stop that now.

  If anything, Tieran’s condemnation steeled her resolve to that end. He didn’t understand that the men on the list needed to be stopped.

  And she was the one to do it.

  Even if that meant a life lived without solace.

  { Chapter 11 }

  It was perfect.

  She just had to stomach Lord Shepton’s putrid breath infesting her pores, his hands pawing her body for another few minutes.

  A few minutes and she would be done.

  Done with this place.

  Viola’s idea of Liv traveling to Mortell Abbey had been genius. Viola had correctly predicted Lord Shepton could not go very long without access to his proclivities of his London brothels, and that the last thing he would want to do to relieve the strain in his groin was bed his own wife. Much better to relieve himself with a lonely widow.

  It had only taken a few more smoldering looks and some promiscuous words from Liv and he pounced on the opportunity.

  The man was ready, salivating at the possibility of gaining access to Liv’s skirts. But producing the encounter—and the scene that needed to accompany it—had proved harder than Liv had anticipated.

  She could have been done with Mortell Abbey a day ago had she not been forced to play a ridiculous cat and mouse game with Tieran. Whenever she had positioned herself in proximity to Lord Shepton—in the nook below the stairs, along a deserted path in the conservatory, deep in the vaulted undercroft of the abbey—Tieran had appeared. It didn’t help that the snow had started again, trapping all the guests to the interior of the abbey.

  No matter where she had attempted to compromise Lord Shepton, Tieran had sniffed them out, interrupting Liv before she even started. And then Lady Shepton would appear minutes later—as Liv intended—but all Lady Shepton would witness were strained, but innocent, conversations between the two men and Liv.

  Maddening to no end.

  And Tieran was enjoying the game far too much.

  She wanted to be done with this place. With these people. And most certainly with Tieran.

  She had let her guard down with him. And had been rewarded for her own stupidity.

  He had enticed her into hope—into believing in the possibility of something more with him. But he didn’t want her—he only wanted to control her. He wanted to stop her from her plans—the exact adversary she knew he was.

  “Be scared, Livia.”

  Jarred, Liv looked at the spittle on Lord Shepton’s chin, not sure she heard correctly.

  “Scream for me. Just a little. Scared, so I can hear the fear.” Lord Shepton found her left nipple through her stays and shift, twisting it.

  Pain. But even more so, disgust welled up from her stomach, reaching her throat. She swallowed back a retch. Of course the bastard would want that. A terrified girl he could abuse.

  She grabbed the edge of the copper tub behind her, steadying herself as he mauled her, shoving her back against the wall next to the tub.

  Blast it. She had set this scene, offered the hot bath that was ready for her to his wife, and then quickly enticed Lord Shepton into the bathing room. But she had grown careless, desperate. She had sworn to herself she would position herself where she could easily escape from Shepton should she need to. But this bathing room was at the end of the wing that housed the guest suites, which were empty at this time of day, and far from the common areas of the home.

  And the door was closed.

  Lady Shepton needed to show soon. Where the hell was she?

  Lord Shepton twisted her nipple again, this time hard, brutal. “I said scream, dammit. You offered this, bitch, now deliver it.” His fingers started to claw down her shift, exposing her.

  Biting a whimper she couldn’t let him hear, Liv tried to slide along the wall, only to be shoved into the corner behind the tub.

  Her look went wild, searching for something close by to hit him with. She needed to stop the bastard before he went too far.

  A click.

  The door opened, a maid stepping into the room with Lady Shepton right behind her.

  Liv saw his wife’s shock. Time slowed. She watched as the shock turned into devastation playing across her face. Every line, every twist of the woman’s features.

  The sight curdled Liv’s stomach, more so than Lord Shepton’s hands on her. A torment in her soul that she had to force this upon this innocent woman. Liv had to remind herself that Lady Shepton would be better off knowing exactly what sort of monster she had married.

  Regrettable. But necessary.

  The maid spun and scurried past Lady Shepton and out the door.

  “Robert.” Lady Shepton’s voice bit through the air.

  Unaware the door had opened, Lord Shepton turned his head to look over his shoulder, his hand still on Liv’s breasts, still clutching the fabric of her shift downward.

  It took him a painfully long second to realize what his wife had just walked in on. He straightened himself.

  But his hands didn’t drop away from Liv.

  Not quick enough.

  And not before Tieran walked into the room.

  Tieran stopped right behind Lady Shepton, his eyes shrewd, taking in the scene.<
br />
  The explosion was instant.

  “Liv, what the blasted hell are you doing? Get your bastard hands off her, Shepton.” Tieran tried to step around Lady Shepton, but she flung out her arm, stopping him.

  “No, Lord Reggard. Robert is mine. I will deal with him, and then be done with him. And then my brother will deal with him.” She turned and walked out the door.

  The ice in her voice told Liv everything she needed to know.

  Success.

  Liv swiped her arm in front of her, breaking Lord Shepton’s contact with her body. It spurred him into motion, and he scrambled from the corner he had trapped her into and ran out the door after his wife.

  Liv was surprised he made it past Tieran without Tieran’s fist denting his cheek.

  She pulled up the straps on her shift, yanking both the front fabric and her stays back into place. She looked to her dress draped on a chair next to Tieran, wanting to hide under the cover of it, but afraid to move an inch in his direction.

  Tieran stood by the door, heaving, fury exploding with every breath. The fists his hands had curled into were jammed into his thighs, the skin on his knuckles a taut white.

  No. She could not move. Not give him a reason to move.

  “Why?” The word hissed from his mouth through clenched teeth. “Why, Liv?”

  She straightened, unable to do anything but bolster feigned nonchalance to his look, to his anger. Her chin lifted slightly. “If all goes as planned, Lady Shepton is about to disavow her husband and have her brother cut his finances completely. Lord Mortell will ensure Shepton is penniless, leaving him destitute with his mountainous debt. With luck, Shepton will reach utter ruin within a month.”

  “With luck?”

  She nodded, her lips tight against the incredulous look on his face. “Yes. With luck.”

  “But why, Liv? Dammit.” His fists slammed into his thighs. “Why is this so bloody important to you?”

  She steeled herself. Tieran would never understand this—his honor would never allow it. All he wanted was to control her. To take away what she needed to do. And she could talk from here to the moon, and he would not hear her. Her words turned cold. “Lord Shepton is a man that does not deserve to live, Tieran. I cannot kill him, so this is the next best option.”

  “Kill him?” Tieran’s left fist opened, his arm swinging wide. “What? Who are you, Liv? This makes no sense to me. No sense at all—who you are now—what you will do. You are not the person I knew—not the one with nothing but kindness in her heart.”

  “Kindness in my heart?” Her head flung back, a strained laugh escaping. “You are right, Tieran. You don’t know me at all. Kindness was killed in me long ago.”

  His eyes narrowed to slits. “No. No, I don’t think it has been killed in you, Liv. You’re lying to yourself on that accord. There is still the woman—somewhere in you—that would pull a bird out of a snowbank to save it. Kindness that stems from your soul and cannot be killed. But you work extremely hard to deny it. That is what I don’t understand, Liv.”

  She could no longer stand her bare arms, her half-naked body in front of him. If it made him move, made him attack, she would just have to chance it. She jumped to the chair with her black muslin dress, grabbing it and stepping into the folds of fabric as she set it about her body.

  When she looked up, Tieran still stood rooted to the same spot. His chest still contracted and expanded in heavy breaths.

  Her stoic indifference was waning. Even after witnessing the scene he just had, Tieran still saw the good in her—or at least he tried to.

  And damned if she didn’t want him to see that.

  She wanted him to look at her as he had in the Roman bath chamber—with wonderment. Not like she was the devil on earth, not like he was right now.

  Tieran lived by a very different code then her. Honor guided him. Vengeance guided her.

  And she didn’t even want to consider what she was thinking, but there it was.

  She wanted him to understand. Wanted him to love her again.

  Damn her heart.

  She awkwardly fixed the top button on the back of her dress. “What do you want of me, Tieran?”

  “I don’t know, Liv. I don’t know why I didn’t leave here days ago.” His hand ran over his face. “Maybe I want to know what happened to the woman I loved once. To the woman I almost married.”

  She took a hesitant step toward him. “Then stay. Understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “That I am that woman. I do have that kindness. It is just that I am that, and more, Tieran. More that cannot be denied.”

  He shook his head, his jaw shifting to the side. “You think you are on the side of righteousness.”

  “I know it.”

  “Yet look at what you did, Liv. Whatever this blasted list of yours that Shepton is on—whatever wrong you think you are righting. None of that was Lady Shepton’s to suffer. Did you not see her face? What you did to that woman?”

  “I…” Liv’s voice trailed. She had seen. And she had no words to defend herself.

  “Exactly.” His head shook, his blue eyes going to the ceiling. “I thought this could be different, that you would reconsider your actions—I thought you loved me, Liv.”

  She rushed forward, her fingers wrapping around his upper arm. “I do. I do love you, Tieran. But that has nothing to do with this—with Lord Shepton. These are very separate things.”

  His fury exploded and he spun away from her, his fist slamming into the wall next to the door, his knuckles cutting through the plaster. He stopped with a growl, his fist lowering to his side as he scoffed, his head shaking anew. “Dammit, Liv. They are not separate. Everything is intertwined. Everything. You cannot be the extraordinary woman I once knew, and also the vengeful, spiteful woman I just saw. You cannot let a man paw you in one minute and then tell me you love me in the next. No, Liv. No.”

  “Oh.” Her hand snapped flat across her belly, holding in the rock her gut had become. “So this isn’t about my love for you. This is about the fact that you cannot love me if I am…like this.”

  He shrugged, refusing to look at her, his gaze staying locked toward the hallway.

  She dared a step to him, reaching up, her fingers on his cheek to turn his face to her. “Don’t go, Tieran. Not yet.”

  His eyes met hers, and they were blank. No anger. No desire. No wonderment. Blank. His voice matched his eyes. “I can’t be near you right now, Liv. You—what you did today—it is reprehensible.”

  “But—”

  “There is no defense of it. If you want me to stay, then this—this is where I draw a line, Liv. You cannot do this. Not ever again. No list. No vengeance. Not even a thought on it. No matter what drives you.”

  With a sharp intake of breath, her hand fell from his face. “You know I cannot promise that.”

  “Then I leave.”

  “No.” All air left her chest. “Don’t, Tieran. Please. Don’t leave me.”

  He paused for the merest moment, her faint, choked words crushing the air between them.

  With a slight shake of his head, he turned and walked away.

  She stared at the empty doorway for minutes, expecting him to reappear.

  He did not.

  Heaven’s hell. What had she just done?

  “Lady Canton.”

  Liv jumped as Lady Mortell walked through the door and stood, fury shaking her limbs.

  “Yes?”

  “I am requesting you leave Mortell Abbey at once, Lady Canton.”

  “Of course, I understand.” Liv had expected no less. She had wrought this unpleasant turmoil, and now she had to leave. She glanced to the sliver of the window she could see between the draperies. Snow still whipped at the glass. “I will pack and be on my way as soon as the storm clears.”

  “No, Lady Canton.” Lady Mortell’s hands clasped in front of her. Tight, like she was holding back from slapping Liv. “You do not understand. You are to leave. Now
. Your maid may remain and pack your belongings.”

  Liv pointed to the window. “But the drifts…” Her voice petered out as she looked at Lady Mortell. The woman looked like she was about to lunge at her. Liv considered for a brief moment to force Lady Mortell to let her remain until the storm cleared—civility would demand it—but the thought evaporated before fully implanting in her mind. She had already created enough damage in this household.

  Liv nodded. “I will be gone within the half hour.”

  Lady Mortell gave a curt nod. “Lord Shepton will also be exiting the property within the half hour. Perhaps you can share your coach.”

  Liv looked at the woman blankly, refusing to acknowledge the suggestion as a real possibility. Share her coach for days on end with the man she had just ruined? Not likely.

  Lady Mortell spun on her heel and exited the room.

  Liv waited until the clicks of her boots faded down the hall before exhaling a sigh.

  Vengeance was brutal business.

  But she had never realized until that moment, how very much it would cost her.

  { Chapter 12 }

  Coming down from his room, Tieran saw the lump on a bench—a lump huddled under a heavy plaid blanket by the fire—the second he stepped into the large dining area of the coaching inn.

  A lump with several tangles of dark, wavy hair hanging down along the back of the blanket.

  Blast it.

  Not here.

  Tieran looked around the wide room, scanning the faces scattered about the tables and booths at the inn. Her driver, her maid, her footman—not one of them was in the room.

  She would not be so stupid.

  He looked back to the strands of dark hair, matted flat with wetness.

  Fury sped through his veins, thickening with every step he took toward the massive fireplace—stacked Yorkstone from a nearby quarry.

  He rounded her, placing himself between her and the fire.

  “God’s teeth, Liv, tell me you have not lost all sense of intelligence and are not here alone.”